


This Charming Man

by louisestrange



Series: Hand in Glove 'Verse [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 21:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisestrange/pseuds/louisestrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'Hand in Glove'. Dave and Kurt are dating and, although he's only nudging at the door of his closet now, by the end of the school year, everyone will know that Dave Karofsky is gay for Kurt Hummel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 5

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Hand in Glove.

Kurt: Hey, do you have your phone with you rn? Text right back if you do. X

David: Yeah why? U ok?

Kurt: Don't freak out ok? But I cut class to watch football practice-I'm totally checking out this super hot player...tall, built, really nice ass...

David: WTF?

Kurt: Lol. I can see the crazy look on your face from here. Still hot, tho. Look at the back of the bleachers on your left.

Kurt stays seated on the hard wooden bench and projects his best cheesy grin towards the far end of the field. He chuckles at the bewildered look on his boyfriend's face. He's been to Carmel before, on various disreputable glee club missions, but never since Dave's been here, and never one quite as disreputable as this. He fires off another quick text –

Kurt: If the wind changes, your face will stay like that :p

He sees Dave snap out of it and glance around him. Practice is over and most of the guys have already left the field to hit the showers. He's been watching for the last twenty minutes, and, since Dave won his football scholarship – the only player on the team who did - he knows he typically stays back after practice for some extra laps, extra stretching – whatever it is he does - then heads straight across town to his weekly therapy session.

Kurt watches as Dave approaches the coach and says something, nodding his head, before balancing his foot on a bench and half-heartedly stretching a calf muscle. Although he doesn't spy Dave using his phone, he swiftly receives another text –

David: Not complaining, but what r u doing here?

Dave shifts his attention to his other calf, rolling down a green and white sock and waves to one of the other players, shaking his head.

Kurt: Here on secret glee club business. Did you think I was here especially for you?

It's not a lie, not really. Jesse St. James wanted to speak to Rachel about a summer vocal coaching camp and he came along or moral support. The kind of moral support that says he'll wait in the car.

David: Maybe ;)

Kurt: How presumptuous.

Kurt smiles to himself as Dave sits on the bench now, phone in hand, failing to hold back his own cute grin.

Dave: Wait for me out front? I'll be 20 minutes, tops.

Kurt: Can't. I'm Rachel's ride. Meeting her at 5, so...

Kurt's close enough that he can see Dave's face fall a little, so fires off his next message.

Kurt: Maybe you could come see me now. I've heard people make out under these bleachers...

Dave's eyebrows lift and he steals a quick look up at Kurt.

David: Fuck. Seriously?

Kurt shrugs and looks innocently off to the side before typing out his reply.

Kurt: Coast seems clear. Meet me down below in...2 mins?

Dave just stares at his phone, he doesn't look up as the coach exits the field followed by a bedraggled equipment manager, even though Kurt's sure the skinny guy laden with overflowing canvas bags says something in Dave's direction. Kurt loses his nerve a little – maybe he's pushing too far – and attempts some damage limitation.

Kurt: It's ok if you can't. I should go find Rachel anyway. It was nice to watch you play :) I'll call you tonight x

This time, the reply is almost instantaneous.

David: No. Wait for me. I'll be there. 5 mins :)

Dave's eyes lift towards him again as he stands and Kurt feels a thrill run through his body. He pockets his phone, grabs his bag and heads down the steps to the bottom of the bleachers. He rounds the corner and ducks swiftly beneath the tarp hanging loosely over the metal framework and feels a buzz akin to the rush of a triple espresso. The air feels still and damp as he waits for what feels like forever, leaning against a metal joist, trying his best to look nonchalant. He hears soft footsteps on the grass and the crackle of the plastic tarp and his heart races with fear-tinged excitement, until he see's for sure that it is Dave and the fear seeps away leaving just the excitement in it's wake.

"Hey," Dave says, smiling that smile; their eyes lock and that's all it takes. Dave kisses Kurt like he's devouring him, savouring the minty-sweetness of his mouth with each slow, sure swipe of his tongue. Big hands find his ass and squeeze hard enough that Kurt's breathe hitches. In that moment, he wants to hook his leg around Dave's thigh and pull him down onto the dirt, but he has enough restraint to stop himself - it's only been two days since they last saw each other, after all; he's not an animal – and instead, he rips at the Velcro hem of Dave's jersey and slips his hand inside, still surprised at how hot he finds his boyfriends sweat-slicked chest.

Dave breaks their kiss for a second to look at Kurt, eyes wide and dark, and mutters, "I can't believe you're here - you're fucking crazy," And reattached his mouth to Kurt, this time latching hungrily onto his neck.

"I couldn't resist...ah-and you look so good in that uniform..." Kurt manages to say, head thrown back and fist curled in Dave's damp hair. Dave makes a noise against Kurt's throat that reverberates all the way down his spine and causes his hips to thrust forward involuntarily, grinding his excruciatingly hard cock against Dave's padded thigh.

Suddenly, his neck feels cold and bare and he's opening his eyes before he realised they were even closed; Dave's on his knees in front of him, hands working his zipper as he looks up at him, licking swollen lips - and, fuck, if seeing his footballer boyfriend in (almost) full uniform, on his knees, about to suck him off just inches from the field he plays on isn't just about the sexiest thing he's ever experienced - then Dave makes it worse by making it so much better and asks, voice jagged, "Is this what you came here for?"

Kurt nods mutely and uses the bulk of Dave's shoulder pads to steady himself while Dave frees his erection from his underwear and wraps a warm hand around it, keeping his touch maddeningly light and motionless. His eyes are still locked with Kurt's and his brows are lifted in question.

Kurt shifts his right hand to the back of Dave's head and pulls him in, "Yes, please, Gaga, yes," and Dave's mouth is on him; tongue searing hot circles around his shaft as he hums in eager agreement, spitty-wet and oh, so good as his hand tugs lightly at Kurt's balls. Dave sucks eagerly on him, taking him in all the way, and, in the name of Dorothy, he's good at this, Kurt thinks as Dave's throat convulses around the head of his cock. Kurt bites a white knuckle to keep himself from moaning out and lets it become too much, too quickly as he knows they don't have time to drag it out. His hand tightening in Dave's hair the only warning he gives him, Kurt's hips buck once-twice- and he's watching himself come in Dave's mouth.

The football player let's go of his balls and hollows his cheeks as he pulls his mouth from Kurt's softening length. Dave sits back on his heels, raising a hand to rub his thumb daintily at the corner of his mouth.

Kurt attempts to tuck himself back into his pants without upsetting the sensitized flesh. "Well," he says weakly, knees threatening to buckle beneath his weight, "That's one to scratch off the bucket list."

Dave chuckles and grabs Kurt's hand for leverage, pulling himself upright and replies, "These knee pads come in handy, right?" before leaning in for a soft, sweet kiss. Kurt can taste himself on Dave's lips and it, as it always does, gives him a senselessly naughty thrill.

"I have to go," Dave says reluctantly, breathe ghosting over Kurt's lips. "Thanks for coming to see me."

"Pun intended?"

Dave laughs as he pulls away from Kurt, but doesn't reply to that. Instead, he adjusts the cup at the front of his pants and takes Kurt's hand in his, "Talk to you tonight?"

Kurt sighs and strokes his fingertips across Dave's, "I'll call you around nine."

Bringing Kurt's fingers to his lips, Dave kisses them lightly before letting go and turning to leave, pausing as he holds up the tarp to exit, and looks back at Kurt with a wayward expression, "You owe me now, Hummel."

And this is how it is between them; how it's been since they danced together that night at Scandals. They push each other's buttons in just the right way; Dave inspires feelings in Kurt he thought were meant for other people – not always rational and rarely if ever wholesome - but it's everything Kurt never knew he wanted.

With Blaine, it was a dream come true: hearts and flowers and hand-holding; chaste kissing and, when the time was right, gentle lovemaking. They sang duets, watched musicals and performed their nightly skincare rituals together. It was his romantic ideal and exactly what he thought he wanted. This thing, though, with Dave, is so much more than he imagined he'd ever want – it's almost overwhelming. Dave makes him feel like more than a girly gay guy – more than a singing, dancing, prancing stereotype - he makes him feel like a man, and, really, cliché as it sounds, it's a potent feeling. It's not that Kurt's suddenly into football, or any less passionate about the Marc Jacobs fall collection (though he does curse more and thinks more, now, about sex than he does about knitwear); and it's not that Dave isn't sweet - there's definitely romance - but it's all underpinned by something more, a spark that overloads his synapses and makes him feel like he's really living and breathing and loving.

He can't hold back when it comes to Dave, whether it's expressing his opinion on a particularly unflattering pair of jean or expressing his desire to rip those jeans off. He and Blaine had burned softly together, like the flame of a beautifully scented candle, but if he's learned anything at all from Katy Perry, it was that he could be a firework – lighting up someone's sky, making them go oh-oh-oh and, with Dave, that's how it feels.

They talk every night on the phone, before bed, just like he and Blaine had; but where calls with Blaine would have them discuss their seaweed facials, he and Dave invariably end up talking about facials of a different kind altogether.

He'd intended on holding back, he really had, after that first night when he jumped Dave in the parking lot of Scandals, and Dave told him he liked him, and that he didn't want to take advantage of him. But that knowledge - that Dave wanted him, had fantasized about having him but was willing to wait - was such turn on for Kurt that his resolve crumbled on their first official date, when they re-enacted their scene from the backseat of Kurt's car without, this time, anyone calling cut.

It's been three months now and, while Dave still hasn't found his way completely out of the closet, he's definitely nudging at the door. Kurt is immensely proud of how far he's come, and he knows, as much as he'd like to take some of that credit, that it's all been Dave's doing. High school, and all the horrors that have gone with it for them both, is almost over and, while they haven't talked about The Future in any great detail, they have a plan for the shorter term, and by the end of their final semester, everyone will know that Dave Karofsky is most definitely gay for Kurt Hummel.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, I told him." Dave wrings his hands and squints into the beam of late afternoon sun that's pouring through the third floor window of Dr. Thomson's office.

"And how did he respond?"

"He said it back."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Good. I mean great, actually. It kinda makes this all feel worthwhile, y'know?" Dave shifts in his seat, sinks lower so the sun's not in his eyes and he can see Dr. Thomson looking at him, face inscrutable as ever. He likes her, though; likes that she doesn't react outwardly to anything he says. He still finds it difficult, most of the time, to open up, but her austerity makes it easier. He never feels like she's judging him; only listening, questioning, observing. Dave knows it's what she's paid to do, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

"In what way?"

"I mean, I've hated myself for feeling this way for such a long time. I felt like there wasn't anything good about being gay, y'know? Like, it was some kind of failing, or punishment, or something. But now, I've actually made friends because of it, and Kurt, it's...shit, it's hard to put into words."

"I know, David, but try."

"It sounds sappy and, well, pretty gay, I guess," he lets out a nervous huff, "But hearing him say he loves me just makes it all seem right. Like, this is why I am the way I am and it's who I'm meant to be, and I don't care what anyone has to say about it anymore. "

"And you used to care what people had to say about it?"

"Yeah, it was all I cared about. You know that; I moved schools because there might be rumors about me. I was scared to look at Kurt in case anyone even thought...and that's why I...with the pushing and stuff, it was fucked. I was...crazy, but we've talked about all this."

"I know. So, from then, having those kinds of feelings, how have things changed?"

"Well, it just doesn't seem as important now, y'know? Having Kurt, actually having him, feels more important that any of that. Like, for instance, he came to see me at school today, and, no one saw anything, but I feel like it should've freaked me out."

"And it didn't?"

"No! I was just, like, excited to see him. We...fooled around. At school. I can't believe that happened. I want him all the time. Like, sexually. Is that...normal?"

"David, you're an eighteen year old in the midst of your first sexual relationship with someone you care deeply for. While I wouldn't recommend that you make a habit of 'fooling around' on school property, you're actions, and feelings, are perfectly normal."

"Good."

"So, how did you feel at school after Kurt visited?"

"Honestly, I didn't care that much if anyone saw me sneak away. When I got back to the locker room, one of the guys asked what took me so long out there, and I just told him to mind his own business. Even a couple of months ago, I would've freaked about that, but not now."

"Do you feel like this means you're ready to come out?"

"Yeah." Dave answers without hesitation and, despite the fact that that was exactly what he was trying to tell her, it still takes him a little by surprise. As does the smile he feels tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Have you talked to Kurt about this?"

Dave nods, "I wanna take him to prom."

"And how does he feel about that?"

Dave hesitates for a moment, thinking back to their conversation that weekend.

"It's kind of our duty as reigning King and Queen, don't you think?" Dave asked with a smile and shifted forward on the bed to tangle their legs together.

"Dave, you know you don't have to do this." Kurt said softly and brought his hand up to rest on top of Dave's where it lay in the space on the blanket between them.

"I know, but I want to make it right," Dave paused, looked into Kurt's bright eyes and, intertwining their fingers, continued, "For both of us, Kurt. Please. This time last year, I never thought I'd be able to contemplate doing something like this. You saw me, I ran away. Now I want to, with you. Let's do it."

Kurt sighed and brought his other hand up to rest of Dave's forearm, "If you're sure, if you're absolutely certain, then I'd be honoured to go to prom with you, David."

"Good. And besides," Dave smiled wide and puffed out his chest, "I really want to tell everyone at McKinley that I'm banging their prom queen."

Kurt slapped at Dave's arms and wriggled his legs free from their tangle before climbing on top of him, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists at either side of his head, "Is that what we do, Karofsky?" He did his best to sound indignant, but the smile on his face belied his tone "We bang?"

Dave looked pointedly down at the press of their naked bodies and raised an eyebrow, "It's definitely one of the things we do."

"And I thought we were making sweet, sweet love," Kurt pulled his hand back from Dave's wrists and placed them on his chest instead, petting at the hair there.

"We do that too. I mean, I love you, Kurt, but," he paused as Kurt's hands stilled on his chest. He swallowed hard, and continued, "I still wanna bang you."

Kurt resumed his ministrations and shifted his hips a little, "Let's compromise, then," he bent forward, bringing their faces close. "I love you too," Kurt kissed him sweetly, "but, this time, let's fuck."

"David?"

Dave snaps out of his reverie and answers, "He wants to. I mean, I know he really wants to; he loves dressing up fancy, and dancing and all that stuff, but he plays it down for my benefit. He says he only wants to go if I'm sure it's what I want."

"And is it?"

"It is. It really, really is. I wanna show them, y'know? Like, yeah, this is why I ran away but now I'm back, bitches, and I don't care what you think anymore."

Dave feels good as he exits his therapist's office; he feels lighter.

He'd talked some more to Dr. Thomson about going to prom, the logistics of it, and they'd talked through how he should handle himself, should a situation arise. He explained to her that they'd arranged a kind of trial run on Kurt's glee club friends; that he was going to McKinley this Friday, to their practice, to watch Kurt sing ("He said he chose a song specially for me, one that I'll like, so..."), and so at least they'd all know in advance - along with Mr Schuester, who Kurt's going to talk to beforehand - and while he knew most of them wouldn't welcome him with open arms, he knew they'd have Kurt's back, and that was good enough. The doctor approved of the trial run and ended their session by saying they'd talk about it next time.

As he schedules his appointment for the same time next week, he thinks he should feel nervous about Friday, about coming out to a group of people who knew him as The Fury; he hasn't been back to McKinley since the night of last year's Junior prom. But instead, there's a spring in his step as he bounds down the stairs, out onto the street, into the setting sun, and all he feels is relief. Dave realises now exactly what the term 'a weight off your shoulders' really means – he hadn't realised he'd been walking around like Atlas* while he was still at McKinley (and fuck the irony that he was a Titan, too) until he'd left and, this year, little by little, the weight had been lifting. Now, he just feels...light, like he's floating on air. And he never wants to go back to bearing the weight of that world on his shoulders again.  
)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * In Greek mythology, Atlas was the primordial Titan who supported the heavens, or, in proverbial terms, bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. Just in case you didn't know :


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt slips into his favourite grey-check Burberry pajamas and taps at his phone on the dresser to check the time. It's 10.28pm, which, yes, is early but just because he's going to bed, doesn't mean he's going straight to sleep. Dave said he'd call at ten-thirty and - one of the many things Kurt has learned about Dave Karofsky - he's nothing if not punctual.

Kurt checks the lock on his door, dims the lights, and crawls cat-like onto his bed, phone in hand, staying on top of the covers. Before he has time to settle in, the first few bars of The Smiths' 'Hand in Glove' blare from his phone signalling Dave's call - they kind of think of it as their song, Mike makes the DJ play it every time they go to Scandals - and he quickly swipes at the screen, "Hey you!"

"Hey yourself." Dave's voice is quiet, almost sullen.

"Feeling nervous about tomorrow?" Kurt asks, sinking down on his side, fiddling with a button on his pajama shirt. He feels a little more worried than excited himself about tomorrow - about both Dave coming out to the New Directions and finally telling the truth about their relationship - but he doesn't want Dave to know that.

"Are you feeling nervous about tomorrow? You have to sing for me, dude. It better be good."

Okay, Kurt thinks, he's deflecting; definitely nervous. He attempts his own form of deflection, his tone airy, "Ah, I remember when I used to get nervous before a big performance, but, alas, no; I'm quietly confident that you'll love it," He feels like being playful. "And if you don't, well, I still have time to find another date for prom, so..."

"Shut up, you know I'll love it." Dave says, smile unmistakable in his voice now. Kurt finds himself mirroring it as he listens. "You could sing the alphabet and make it sounds worthy of a Tony."

That sounds too much like a challenge to Kurt; he goes for it, "Aaay – b –c – deee..."

"Okay, I was wrong," Dave cuts him off with a chuckle.

"Hey!" Kurt demurs.

"Hey yourself."

"So, are you nervous?" Kurt asks, trying to stir their conversation back to seriousness for a second. He wants to give Dave the chance to back out now if he needs to.

"Is it just me, or have we had this conversation before?" Dave's tone is definitely mocking, now.

"David..."

"A little, okay? But good nervous I think. I wish Blaine wasn't gonna be there though."

"Why? He already knows about you, just not about us."

"Exactly."

Kurt rolls his eyes. They've had this conversation before, "That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."

"I just don't like him."

"And yet you're so fond of all my other friends..."

"Hudson's ok, I guess."

"Well, he is sort of my brother, and he covered for our asses a lot while we were sneaking around, so you have to like him."

Kurt had been forced to tell Finn just a few weeks into their relationship, when he'd accidentally spied Kurt getting out of Dave's truck, in what he'd thought had been a discreet manner, at the far end of their street after a date. It was easier just to tell Finn the truth than create an elaborate lie and, when Kurt explained everything – well, almost everything – Finn had been surprisingly sympathetic.

He hears Dave harrumph, "Doesn't Berry know too?"

"Yes! That's three down already," Well, he couldn't tell Finn without Rachel finding out, and that worked out ok. She was more accepting than her persona would have people believe, particularly, as she put it, with her deep personal affiliation with LGBT issues, and she and Finn had kept the pinkie-promise they'd make Kurt that they wouldn't tell anyone else. Besides, he'd been grateful to have someone to cover for him – especially before Burt found out – on the numerous occasions when it came to sneaking around with Dave and he knew, really, that Dave was just as grateful for that as he was. "And, of course, there's Santana, and that means Brittany probably knows, too." Kurt's little pep-talk is starting to make him feel better, if not Dave. "See? Half of them know already. We'll be all, 'He's gay, we're dating' and they'll be like, 'Pfft, whatever. Go to prom together already'."

"You think?" And, bless his Wal-Mart cotton-poly blend socks, Kurt think, he sounds hopeful. Kurt wants to reach right through the phone and hug him. Instead, he attempts some to be reassuringly pragmatic, "Probably. But, it's not too late..."

"Kurt, I'm cool with it, honestly. I'm ready. I just don't wanna cause problems for you. And," He hesitates for a second, then continues, sounding a little uncomfortable "I just hope I don't run into Az or anyone from the team first, y'know? Not yet. I just want it to go the way we've planned."

Kurt's heart aches for him; he wishes it were all as easy in reality as it is when they talk about it. "I know, baby, and it will. We're meeting super early, so the halls will be quiet - Mr Schue was surprisingly cool about the whole thing - so, just try not to stress about it, okay?"

"Okay. But, hey," Dave's voice had gone quiet again, but his tone had changed, softened, and Kurt knew just where this was headed. "You know what's good for stress?

"No," He lied, "Do tell."

"Um, sexual release."

"Reeeeally?" Kurt did his best to sounds credulous. "Wow, fascinating."

"Isn't it?"

"Maybe I should leave you alone to de-stress, then..." Kurt smiles to himself. He loves this game they play; and he knows Dave well enough now to recognize that if he was seriously, dangerously, stressed about tomorrow, this wouldn't be happening.

"That's not what I was thinking." Dave says, resolute. When it came to initiating their pre-bed ritual, they alternated. Tonight was Dave's turn.

"No?" Kurt likes teasing him a little, just because he can. He rolls onto his back and kicks down the covers beneath him, lying all the way down, head sinking into soft pillows, mussing his hair.

"No." Dave's voice has a rasp to it that lets Kurt know he's started without him.

"What were you thinking?"

"C'mon Kurt..."

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about." Kurt bites his lip to stifle a wicked giggle.

"Don't play innocent with me, Hummel," Dave's voice is barely a murmur and Kurt can almost feel Dave's breath tickle his ear as he speaks, "Remember, I've seen you beg me to put my cock in your ass."

That sends a shiver through Kurt's body and his cock twitches, tenting the fabric of his loose cotton pants. "Oh, now I remember..."

"Hmm."

"So...is that what you're thinking about?" Kurt lowers his voice to a whisper, tone an octave deeper. "Putting your cock inside me, making me beg?"

"Hmm-hmm"

"And, why would I do that?" Kurt's running a thumb along the waistband of his pants, now, just waiting for Dave's permission.

"Because...you like to get fucked?" He phrases it as a question rather than a statement, breath becoming shallow.

"Yeah, I do. I like to get fucked by you, David."

"Fuck."

"Mmm, that's what I said." He tugs his pants down and gasps as his cock springs free.

"Are you hard right now?"

"Yes," Kurt hisses and feels his hand tremble as it hovers over his erection, "Should I touch it?"

"Yeah, but go slow."

"Mmm, okay..." Kurt obeys by gripping his shaft loosely and pumping his fist. "And what're you doing?"

"Stroking, slowly, thinking about fucking you under the bleachers..."

"Talk me through it," Kurt purrs and the power shifts easily between them. Kurt listens intently as Dave tells him how good he tastes in his mouth; how he wants to spread him wide and eat his ass, right there, at school, under those grubby bleachers and fuck anyone who might catch them. Sweet, still-fresh memory combined with fantasy and the low, sexy rumble of Dave's voice build him up too quickly and, when he tells Dave he's close, Dave all but growls at him, "Come for me, Hummel," and he does; they both do and, when their mutual panting slows and they each muster enough breath to say goodnight, Kurt asks, one last time if Dave's okay about tomorrow.

He replies, unwavering, "Suddenly, I've never felt less stressed about anything in my entire life."

"You're here!" Kurt beams as he meets Dave in the McKinley parking lot the next morning. He's grinning like a Cheshire cat and Dave returns his smile, just not one quite so wide.

"Of course I'm here," Dave shoves his hands in his pockets and nudges at Kurt with his shoulder, small smile playing on his lips. "You look nice."

"Why, thank you," Kurt bites on his lower lip and rubs his shoulder lightly against Dave's, almost forgetting where he is for a moment, before snapping back to action mode. "Okay ," Kurt starts, and they're walking together, close, but not too close, and he's talking quickly, "Everyone's here; Mercedes is a little bitchy because she had to get up so early, so just ignore her if she starts anything," Dave widens his eyes at that, but Kurt has too much to say and too much caffeine flowing through his bloodstream to slow down now. "The plan is that you'll wait by the doorway while I do my little speech – to warm up the crowd – and then I'll call you in, I'll sing and after that," he pauses for breath as they pass through the first set of doors that take them into the halls of McKinley, "We deal with whatever anyone has to say about us."

"Okay." Dave nods and looks around him cautiously, like he's waiting for someone to jump out at him from behind the row of lockers.

As hoped, the halls remain deserted but for the janitor who fails to acknowledge their existence. They stop a few feet short of the choir room door and Kurt turns to look Dave in the eyes before asking, tone hushed, "Are you still okay with this?"

Dave's eyes flit from side to side before he rolls them dramatically. He straightens his shoulders and raises a hand to Kurt's jaw, letting his thumb drift over Kurt's cheekbone one quick time before pulling it swiftly away, and speaks, "I'm fine, and I can't wait to hear you sing. Now, get in there and deliver your speech."

Kurt smiles back at him and aches to grab Dave's face and kiss the nervous expression right off it. Instead, he says, "Wait for me here, okay?"

"Okay."

"As you all know, in light of the upcoming prom, the theme for this week was simply romance. Now, that's about as broad as it gets when it comes to song selection, so I asked you to think outside the box a little." Mr Schuester paces in front of the assembled group. "We've already enjoyed a wonderful selection of songs this week – most notably, I think it's fair to say, Brittany and Santana's version of 'Je T'Aime' – but Kurt has something for us today that involves a visitor, so, Kurt..."

Mr Schue gestures towards Kurt and motions for him to take the floor. He jumps out of his seat and smoothes shaky hands down the front of his blazer, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet as he prepares to speak.

"Firstly, thank you all for joining me so early this morning, I know that some of you can use all the beauty sleep you can get," There are a few groans from his audience at that, and Santana interrupts his flow.

"Can you just get on with this little attention seeking stunt already, ladyface? I know you're terrified that Brittany and I may have pulled gay-focus, but, seriously, I'm not my usual perky self until after nine in the a.m., so unless you wanna see me get nasty up in here, move it."

"O -kay," Kurt takes a deep breath, "As some of you will know, I've been seeing someone for a while now and, as my mystery man will be accompanying me to senior prom, I'd like to introduce you, as my friends," he pauses and looks pointedly at Santana, "to my boyfriend."

Blaine rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. Kurt glares at him and continues, "Some of you – most of you, actually, already know him, but, I would ask in the spirit of this club, that you cast aside past aspersions and preconceptions - bearing in mind that few of you here haven't done something to hurt someone at this school at some point."

Mr Schue steps towards him, "Kurt?"

Kurt looks back at him and nods, all but skipping over to the doorway, and calls softly, "Dave?"

There's commotion behind him, scraping chair noises and whispering, the groups interest finally piqued, as Dave shuffles into the classroom.

"Um, hi." He feebly gestures with one hand, the other shoved deep in the pocket of his jeans.

Rachel claps her hands at Dave's entrance, joined by Finn after a little prompting, and Kurt smiles broadly at them.

"What the actual fuck, Hummel?" Puck says and straightens in his seat. "Karofsky's gay? Is this an April fool?"

"Really Kurt? Have you lost your mind?" Blaine joins in.

At the same time, Mercedes adds, "Hell to the no, I know this can't be happening."

Mr Schue cuts in, "Okay, okay – settle down," He motions for those standing to take their seats. "Firstly, Puck, it's May. Secondly, I know this is a surprise for most of you, but like Kurt said, this group is all about acceptance, and giving people a second chance. Dave's worked on his issues," The teacher looks at Dave then and he nods earnestly back at him, "and, like the rest of us, deserves a chance to be himself inside these walls."

Dave continues to look at Mr Schue, but his hand finds Kurt's in the small space between them and Kurt all but bursts at the seams with pride.

"Now, Kurt, your song..." Mr Schue waves Dave towards a free chair and he reluctantly lets go of Kurt's hand to sit. Rachel hops over two places to sit beside him, smiling reassuringly.

"Thanks, Mr Schue. This one's for David, because it's one of his favorites, and one of mine," The first few chords ring out and Kurt shimmies his shoulders, eyes locked on Dave who, recognising the song, is blushing furiously.

"A punctured bicycle  
On a hillside desolate  
Will nature make a man of me yet?"

Kurt clasps his hands across his chest and looks wistfully upwards,

"When in this charming car  
This charming man,"

He edges across the room in Dave's direction, rolling his shoulders,

"Why pamper life's complexity  
When the leather runs smooth  
On the passenger seat,"

He'd love to grab Dave's hand and pull him up onto the floor with him, but he knows he's not quite ready for that, so Kurt shimmies back towards the piano and rests an elbow on the shiny top as he continues to sing, thrilling at the feel of Dave's smiling eyes on him as he performs,

"I would go out tonight  
But I haven't got a stitch to wear  
This man said "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care',"

Kurt was relieved to see that most of the group were smiling now, clapping along and tapping their feet, as the song came to a close,

"La-la-la, la-la-la-la, this charming man..."

"So, it's just like when Kurt first told me," Finn speaks as they stand in a haphazard circle, most of them still gawping at Dave. "He's like the dude version of Santana."

Kurt interjects as both Dave and Santana's eyes dart towards him, "That's not quite how I put it..."

"Yeah, but," Finn looks at Dave, "You were all angry and stuff because you were hiding who you really were, right?" Dave nods sadly back at him and Kurt feels ouched that his step brother is standing up for him; for them.

Dave finally speaks, "That's pretty much it. Hudson's right. And I know I was an ass to almost all of you, but I really am different now."

"He really is," Kurt agrees, clasping Dave's arm tightly.

"And I just want a chance to prove it. I feel different now and, if Kurt can forgive me, and we can have this," The look Dave throws Kurt's way makes his heart feel like it's dancing in his chest, "then, all I can ask of you guys is that you don't hate me for trying to being who I am. Or, even if you do hate me, that you don't take that out on Kurt."

"Cool with me, man." Puck says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Be who you gotta be, bro," Artie adds, and Sam bobs his head up and down in agreement.

Rachel pipes up, "You know, you can't choose who you fall in love with and so, for some people, when they do fall in love, it can just take a while to figure out what's going on."

She's making googly eyes at Finn and the rest of the crowd stare blankly at her. Kurt understand what she's saying, and he appreciates it, but he feels Dave's muscle tense beneath his hand and the tension in the room is getting awkward. "Okay, Rachel. You officially just out-gayed the gays in gayest room in Ohio," that elicits a ripple of laughter from guys and, as if by magic, the warning bell sounds, signalling time to break up their little coming out party. Kurt raises his voice to be heard over the shuffling of feet and gathering of belongings, "But guys, seriously, if you could not run out and tell everyone about this right away, we'd really appreciate it."

There are a few nods and mumbles of agreement as they all leave, but Kurt knows that gossips will be gossips. He looks up at Dave, leaning into his side, and Dave surprises him by pressing a soft kiss into his hair.

"We'll talk about this later, Kurt," Mercedes says, looking at Dave rather than him, and it's delivered like a threat, as she flick's he hair and leaves the room. Kurt nods in agreement, attempting an apologetic smile.

Blaine exits without comment, just a haughty glance in their general direction, leaving just Brittany and Santana in the room with them.

"You're a unicorn who found his horn," Brittany says and Dave sends a questioning glance Kurt's way.

"If the hitch in Kurt's walk lately is anything to go by, he definitely found his horn," Santana speaks sharply and narrows her eyes, following Brittany towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns her head back and says, softly, "Just don't ditch him at the dance like you did with me, Karofsky, okay?"

"So, how do you feel?" Kurt asks Dave, gazing dreamily into his eyes from across the table at the Lima Bean, sipping on his non-fat mocha.

"I feel good. Relieved. Like, whoa," Dave laughs and it's music to Kurt's ears. He knew, deep down, that Dave was ready for this but seeing the proof is even better than he'd hoped. He feels like he does after sex; calm and wistful and ready for more of the same. "And I liked the song, but you knew that already."

"Of course," Kurt pouts and shrugs his shoulders dismissively.

"It reminds me of..." Dave starts, cheeks coloring before he goes further.

"I know exactly what it reminds you of," Kurt giggles and leans over the table to whisper, "You, me, an SUV and The Smiths on MP3." He sighs, "But let's not talk about that here - people are eating."

Dave laughs again and it lingers in his eyes as he takes a sip of his Americano.

"I'm proud of you, you know," Kurt says, still slightly inclined towards Dave, and moves to grip his hand where it sits on the table before pulling it back quickly in a mental rebuke.

"Thank you," Dave says and, sliding his hand across the table, turns it palm-up and offers it to Kurt.

There's light dancing in his golden eyes, and Kurt slides his hand into his boyfriends with a sigh. Despite all they've done together, all of themselves that they've shared, Kurt thinks that this – sitting in a small town coffee house at ten in the morning, holding hands, is the most intimate they've ever been and Yep, he definitely wants more of this.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, Mercedes finally called me for 'the talk'," Kurt says, sliding into creaky-worn passenger seat of Dave's truck.

"Yeah? So, is this the part where you break up with me 'cause your friends think I'm a monster?" Dave's only half joking when he says this to Kurt, he's been worrying about it since Friday, truth be told. If looks could kill, he would've been stone cold in the ground after Mercedes' death stare landed on him. What if she'd gotten to Kurt - reminded him of all the awful things he'd done? He feels tension creep into body, some of the old weight back on his shoulders.

"You," Kurt nudges Dave's knee with his own, "are an idiot. But a lovable one, so I'll let it slide. She was more upset that I hadn't told her, actually."

"So she's cool?" Dave says hopefully, taking a quick peek at Kurt's face as he spins the steering wheel and leads them onto the freeway. They were going prom shopping in Columbus, Kurt insisted they couldn't get what they needed – sophisticated formalwear – in Lima.

"She's...not cool, exactly. Maybe a little frosty. See, I hadn't told her about what happened, back in the day," Kurt says, with a kind of forced flippancy that makes Dave cringe. "So she was annoyed at me for not sharing, but I told her, it wasn't my secret to share."

"But she won't, like, cut my balls off or anything for turning up at prom with you?"

"I don't think so," Kurt says and reaches a hand across to cup Dave's crotch through his jeans, "Maybe I should keep hold of them, though, just to be safe."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Do you actually like this shirt? I think it kinda makes me look like a pirate..."

"You know what? It totally does. A big, gay, pirate and, yes, I like it."

Kurt's mocking him, he knows, and Dave doesn't care. This puffy white monstrosity is the umpteenth shirt he's tried on and, according to Kurt, it has to be this or the pink one. He's never minded it before, but, as of this moment, he officially hates shopping.

"I think I want something more...plain."

"David, this isn't just prom, it's your coming out party. Seize the opportunity to wear something fabulous for once in your life."

"Fabulous is your thing, Hummel. I'm more..."

"Boring?" Kurt chirps, pulling closed the curtain in the changing room.

"I was gonna say classic, but whatever, you're the one dating the boring guy..."

"Shut up. For that, I'm buying you the pink one."

It was a surprise to Dave that they'd found Kurt's perfect outfit faster than his own. But that was only because Kurt knew exactly what he'd wanted, and had already pre ordered the silver-grey tux online. "Just a few alterations on my Singer at home and - Viola! – the perfect look for the occasion."

Dave didn't know, or care too much, about what he wore, but he knew Kurt did, so he let him have at it. They (Kurt) decided on a simple black Hugo Boss suit, some terrifying pointy-toed shoes, and a black silk tie to go with the deep pink shirt.

"I've never worn anything pink before, isn't it a little too..." Dave attempted to complain as they endeavoured to locate Dave's truck in the multi-storey parking lot attached to the mall.

"Don't dare say what I think you're gonna say, Karofsky," He was on the receiving on of Kurt's evil glare, "You'd never had sex with a boy before either, but I didn't hear you complain about that being too gay."

"Good point, well made." Dave laughs and bumps his elbow against Kurt's.

"And this is the very same city where that magical event took place too." Kurt smiles seductively at Dave as they stop at their spot.

They'd gone to Columbus for Dave's eighteenth birthday, mostly for Dave to visit his Mom, but, it gave them an excuse to get away. They'd been struggling for some private time and Dave was definitely ready. While Dave met with his mother, Kurt shopped and checked them in at the Marriott.

"So what you're saying is," Dave leans in, backing Kurt against the door of the truck. The floor's quiet and they're mostly hidden from view by the vehicle's bulk, anyway "You're taking my pink-shirt virginity too?"

"That sounds like a euphemism for something altogether dirtier than a fashion statement. But yes, either way. I'm snagging all of your firsts."

"You really are." Dave sneaks a quick kiss, their bodies pressing briefly together.

"You know you wouldn't want it any other way." He murmurs softly against Dave's lips.

"I wanna go back there right now and do it all again," Dave steals another kiss.

"Me too," Kurt replies, sounding inexplicably out of breath, "But this time it would be even better."

"How come?"

"Because now you know what you're doing."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Can I interest you in some champagne, David?" Kurt had hopped off the bed as Dave entered the room, rushed to the dresser and popped the bottle's cork.

"Fancy," Dave said and accepted the plastic flute Kurt was holding out for him.

"You're worth it." He poured his own glass and raised it in the air; Dave met it with his own in a not-quite-clink. "Besides, I kinda want to to get lucky tonight, so I was hoping to loosen you up a little. I've heard champagne's good for," he paused, took a sip and raised an eyebrow theatrically, "loosening inhibitions."

"Is that so?" Dave asked, and pulled Kurt in for a wet kiss. "You should know I'm pretty loose when it comes to you anyway, Hummel. I'm what they call a Class D virgin."

"I noticed," Kurt said with a flicker of lust in his bright eyes."Let's just make that a big old F tonight, shall we?"

Dave tries not to fidget as Kurt Windsor-knots his tie over his pink shirt. The big night had arrived, and Dave felt only about as nervous as he had going with Santana the previous year. He chose to take that as a good sign.

"Now, no matter what happens in there, David, I want you to promise me two things," Kurt says, still fussing over the tie.

"I promise," Dave says, face devoid of humor.

"Would you like to hear what those two things are before you agree?" He swats at Dave's arm and continues, blue-green eyes burning fiercely into his own, "First, if you need to leave, or want to run out, or..."

"C'mon, Kurt, that was different..."

"I know, but we need to be realistic. Maybe everyone'll applaud and we'll be the veritable belles with balls in there, but if not," Kurt pauses and yanks Dave's tie for effect, "If not, then we'll leave together, okay? Don't leave me alone."

"I promise I won't."

"The second thing; no matter what happens, try to keep 'the fury' under wraps."

Dave looks at him, confused, "You mean..." he raises his hand in a fist. "Or," he uncurls the fist and points a finger towards his groin.

"Are you serious?" Kurt barks out a laugh. "When have I ever referred to that," Kurt joins Dave in pointing at his groin, "as 'the fury'?"

"I dunno, just..."

"Okay," Kurt interrupts, "Keep both out of sight in there tonight, alright? Deal?"

"Deal," Dave laughs and reaches for Kurt, pulling him close with a hand on the small of his back. "Kiss on it?"

"Did I teach you how to kiss like that?" Kurt said, coming up for a quick, panting breath.

"Mmm, must have, Hummel," Dave kissed the curve of Kurt's jaw, his chin, his neck.

"I'm a really good teacher," Kurt sighed, tugging on Dave's hair to bring their lips back together.

"Mmm, you're the best, but" Dave gasped as Kurt's nails drew slow lines up and down his back, "I think I have more to learn."

"Oh, you definitely do. I've come prepared though," Kurt's hand slipped lower, under the open waist of Dave's jeans and grasped his ass cheek, hard enough to bruise, "I have hand-outs and everything."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How you doin', kid?" Burt enters the living room and sits in a worn-looking chair, adjacent to the couch that Dave's currently perched on, waiting for Kurt to make his entrance.

"I'm good, thanks, Mr Hummel." He presses his increasingly sweaty palms against his thighs. Despite everything he feels he's overcome, if there's still one thing that scares the shit out of him, it's being in the presence of Burt Hummel.

"Mind if I...?" Burt gestures at the TV and Dave shakes his head, grateful at the prospect of a distraction. Burt flicks to ESPN. "Ready for your big night?"

"Yeah, I think so. Ready as I'll ever be. I know it's gonna be better than last year, so..."

Burt looked at him thoughtfully, "Kurt's real proud of you, Dave. But..."

Dave chews at his lip as Burt trails off. He does not like this kind of but.

"You're doing this because you want to, right? Because I know Kurt can be real pushy, and I know you might feel like you owe him –"

Dave interrupts, "No, no, really, this is for both of us. I kinda have something to prove to myself as much as anyone with this, y'know?"

"Okay, good," Burt nods. "I know you know this, but this might not be easy. And I know you have your own Dad to go to but if you, or your Dad, ever need to talk to someone, I'm here ok?"

"That," Dave falters, he's taken aback by the offer, "Thanks, Mr Hummel. That means a lot."

"Well, I have some experience in the area," Burt smiles at him. "And I probably had a good fifteen years more than your Dad did to get used to the idea of having a gay son."

Dave's grateful, truly, for that offer and feels a huge sense of relief. His eyes flit to the TV, just as grateful for the conversation to be over, but Burt's not finished with him yet.

"So you if you need to talk, about anything, even...more personal stuff, you can. I have, um, pamphlets."

Dave looks at him and his smile fades, "Oh, those pamphlets? I, uh, we...Kurt already showed me those, when, um..." he squirms in his seat, and feels heat rise in his cheeks.

"Oh. Oh, okay then," Burt seems as embarrassed as he does, and Dave realises he pretty much just told the guy he was already having sex with his son. Burt looks hastily back at the TV and doesn't say anything more on the matter.

Way to go, Karofsky, he thinks, and stares blankly at the TV, willing Kurt to stop fussing with his hair and come save him from himself.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"'Boys and Boys: How It Works'. Did your Dad seriously give this to you?" Dave asked and examined the glossy paper in his hands.

"Oh yeah, and that's not even the worst one," Kurt proceeded to flick through a small stack of other brightly coloured pamphlets, and produced one labelled 'How To Lube Your Lover', "Case in point."

"I can't even..." Dave fell back on the oversized hotel bed, mortified grin covering his face.

"I know, the things I've had to endure. But still," Kurt lay down beside him, propped on his elbow. "It was a touching gesture, and, well, they are kind of informative."

"That so?" Dave turned to face Kurt, hand reaching for a sharp hip-bone.

"Hmm-hmm. Especially this one," Kurt waves 'How To Lube Your Lover' in front of Dave's face. " Care to peruse my pamphlets, David?" Kurt hooked a toned leg around Dave's thigh and pulled him over to rest on top of him.

"Is that what we're calling this?" He bowed his head to kiss Kurt's lips; bee-stung and red from over-use.

"Grab the bottle of lube from the dresser," Kurt breathed against Dave's lips and wrapped his legs tighter around Dave's waist. He smiled, "It's cherry flavor."

"Makes sense," Dave giggled, and reached for bottle.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They arrive at McKinley late, as intended, so they're just in time for the crowning of the new prom King and Queen who will - if everything goes according to plan, though he knows well enough that that doesn't always happen – be Finn and Rachel.

Kurt sends Rachel a text to let her know they've arrived, and they sit there in the car, anxiously awaiting her reply.

"I'm sorry we're still not getting to do this right, Kurt," Dave felt bad that he still wasn't delivering the whole prom experience to Kurt; the dinner, the limo, the grand entrance. The were going to do this all again, properly, at Carmel, but the events had been scheduled for the same night and doing it at McKinley meant more to them both.

Kurt gave Dave an even look, though his eyes betrayed him, Dave could see the glimmer of wistful regret there, "We've talked about this. You're an idiot, and what we're doing will be incredible." His phone buzzed in his hand. He read the text from Rachel and looked excitedly back at Dave, "That's our call, they're onstage now!"

Dave's heart beats like a drum as they make their out of the car, into the school building and down to the gym. Everything about the night feels utterly familiar and alien at the same time. Dave feels nauseous. A few kids pass them as they walk the halls, but no one pays attention to them; too wrapped in their individual drama to give them any thought.

When the reach the entrance, the hallway is deserted and there's no music coming from the gym, just the electric drone of Principal Figgins's voice coming through the speakers.

Dave grips Kurt's hand suddenly, tightly and says quietly, "Just in case I die in there," he smiles but it fades fast, "I love you."

"I love you too," Kurt smiles, eyes too-bright, and squeezes Dave's hand, "Now, let's not keep our subjects waiting."


	5. Chapter 5

They enter the dimly lit gym and stand quietly by the side of the door, unnoticed, all eyes on the stage, just in time for the coronation.

"Your 2012 McKinley prom King is Mr. Finn Hudson." The crowd cheer enthusiastically and Finn steps up to receive his crown, lopsided grin in place. Dave steals a glance at Kurt, whose eyes are already fixed on him.

"You okay?" Kurt whispers and Dave nods as convincingly as he can, tension coiling like a snake in his belly.

Figgins continues flatly, "And, after having the votes checked for evidence of tampering by an independent adjudicator, I can confirm that your legitimate prom Queen is Miss Rachel Berry."

The crowd's applause is less raucous as Rachel stands in the spotlight, bowing in a gracious – and practiced – move to receive her crown from Figgins. She steps up to the mic and Dave feels his gut wrench. This is it. Rachel's talking -

"Thank you McKinley High for this tremendous honor. Before we commence our inaugural dance as your King and Queen, Finn and I would like to invite to the floor the reigning monarchs of this school, Mr David Karofsky and Mister Kurt Hummel." She beamed in the spotlight and clapped her hands, joined by Finn and a small section of the audience. "They didn't get to share a dance last year, so we would like to share our first dance with them tonight." Figgins simply gawps at her from the side of the stage.

"Showtime!" Kurt sings and pulls Dave by his hand through the crowd and onto the dance floor. Dave's limbs feel heavy as he moves behind Kurt. He feels like he's slouching; sinking into the floor with each step.

There's suddenly light on him, bright and unforgiving, and he closes his eyes. There's chattering amongst the crowd; laughing and name-calling. As he listened to those words being uttered all around, bearing down on him, he feels the power they hold over him, still, and thinks he might buckle under their pressure.

Then there are soft, strong hands tugging at his own, opening his curled fists and hauling them upwards. He opens his eyes. Kurt - beautiful, brave, ever-hopeful Kurt; eyes huge and glassy. There's a scared excuse for a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he whispers to Dave, "You can do this, okay?"

Dave realises with a start that he's still standing, defying gravity as it tries to pull him down. He's faced his worst fear and yet the world continues to turn.

He returns the grip on both of Kurt's hands and quickly glances around him. The music has started playing, a song he doesn't know and knows he won't be able to remember, but no-one is moving, not even Finn and Rachel. The throng around them is still and quiet, now; watching and, he knows, waiting for him to drop, to run.

"I'm sorry," he says, little more than a whisper and the burgeoning hurt in Kurt's eyes is painful to see, he looks wounded; it brings back so many memories and so much shame of what Dave used to be. Used to be. He never wants to be responsible for putting that look on Kurt's face again.

Fuck them all, he thinks and squares his shoulders, I can do this. He attempts a smile and it's shaky, he can feel it, but as his expression begins to lift, so does resolve. Dave draws in a deep breath and pulls Kurt's left hand up and towards his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before bringing both hands up higher to rest on his shoulders. He moves in closer to Kurt, who smiles at him, tears refusing to fall, and Dave feels the crushing weight shift, lessen, and relief washes over him in an awesome wave.

"Let's do this."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Roll over."

"Mmm...Okay, birthday boy."

Kurt obliged and Dave was suddenly cheek to cheek with his boyfriend's pert, round ass. He'd touched it before, over and under tight jeans, designer briefs, fancy slacks, but nothing had come close to seeing it so close and being granted unmitigated access.

Dave rose to his knees and pressed his palms against the soft flesh, kneading, grip growing firmer as he pulled the soft cheeks gently apart to reveal the pink pucker between. He bowed his head to the small space where lower back curves into ass and pressed an open mouthed kiss to Kurt's skin, causing him to moan, soft and low, and push his ass up to press more firmly into Dave's hands.

Emboldened by the reaction, he pulled Kurt's cheeks wider apart and ran a thumb down the crevice, stopping over the tight bud of his hole.

Dave paused there, literally shaking with anticipation. "Can I...?" He asked, hoarse.

"Tonight," Kurt looked over his shoulder and arched his back, pushing his ass into Dave's touch, "You don't have to ask. You can do anything."

Dave let out a shaky breath, "Anything?"

"Hmm-hmm, anything," Kurt folded an arm on the pillow and languidly laid his head on top of it. "If I don't like it, I'll safeword."

Dave smiled, "But what's the safeword?"

He didn't wait for a reply, but dipped his head low and pressed the flat of his tongue where his thumb had been, taking a tentative taste before pushing his tongue inside.

"Fuck," Kurt whined, head thrown back.

Dave pulled away enough to speak, "I don't think that one's gonna work for us.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't want to leave Dave," Kurt protests, glued to Dave's side as Mercedes tries to tempt Kurt back onto the dance floor.

She glares at Dave, hand on hip. "You'll be fine for five minutes without Kurt, right?"

"Sure, go dance, I'll be fine." Dave smiles, and he means it. His nerves have settled; he's been huddled amongst the safety of the gleeks since he and Kurt stumbled off the dance floor and has received overall less attention – positive or negative – from his former classmates than he thought he would. The laughter, the names he'd heard, were from the jocks he used to call his friends, but it seemed the impact of their friend being gay for Hummel had been diminished by his prolonged absence from the school. They'd quickly gone back to their dates and their drinking; no real sport in giving it to someone they knew could give it back.

He felt like he could breathe again, really breathe - like he was sucking in air for the first time in years. He'd built this event up so much in his mind; a year's, lifetime's, worth of fear. Part of him really thought that the world might come crashing in around him tonight because, when he fled from the same dance floor at the same school from the same boy last year, that's just how it'd felt - and people thought Kurt was the drama queen. The journey was long, but tonight, he reached his destination. It almost feels anti-climatic, though he's never been so happy to be wrong about something in his life. Now, the worst part over, he's sure can take anything else this night has to give him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dave's hand was smeared to the wrist in cherry lube as he worked two eager fingers in and out of Kurt's stretched hole. It was overwhelming; the sight - the sound - of Kurt writhing in pleasure at his touch.

It was never how he expected Kurt to be, not back when he was at McKinley, crushing on the prissy choir boy who scarcely bared as much as an elbow, but it was a the sweetest kind of surprise when it turned out that Kurt was as much of a performer in the bedroom – or, wherever they happened to be – as he was on the stage, though nowhere near as wholesome; and here, where they'd no one to hide from or be quiet for, he seemed downright obscene.

He moaned, lewd and loud, as Dave scissored thick fingers inside him, between spread legs, stretching him further. He so wanted this to be good for Kurt, he wanted to blow away everything that had come before. That focus, the almost- anxiety behind it, was the only thing that stopped him from blowing his load right there on the blanket underneath them instead of buried in Kurt's ass.

"You...you're so good at this...you paid attention to that pamphlet," Kurt ground out, slack smile on his face, voice jagged, pitch wavering.

"I love to learn," Dave murmured his agreement, pressing another sloppy-wet kiss to Kurt's milky thigh as he gazed up at him – his head thrown back, hair askew, face flushed a blotchy-red. The sight sent another delicious shudder through Dave's body. He twisted his fingers and made Kurt hiss out a breath.

"Fuck, Dave...please..."

"Do you," Dave withdrew his fingers and pulled himself up to kneel on the bed, "want me to stop?"

"No, wh-"

Dave leaned forward, kissing Kurt, cutting off his words, teeth clashing with the desperate force of it. "You said the safe word."

"Nnn-no, stop teasing me, you..."

"Tell me what you want, Hummel." Dave pushed his knees in close against Kurt's pale ass, hands clasping at his thighs.

"I want," Kurt purred and drew himself up, stomach muscles flexing with the movement, "you to put this-" Kurt gripped Dave's cock, hard "-inside me right now."

Dave groaned, unbidden, and felt his legs begin to shake. He tried to answer, to say 'yes' and 'please' and 'fuck' , but at that moment he was a bundle of nerve-endings and want, coherency lost. Kurt would be the end of him, and this was the beginning of it.

He watched as Kurt grasped feverishly at the nightstand, one-handed, for a condom then tore hungrily at the wrapper with his teeth, hand slowly pumping Dave's painfully hard erection, letting go only to roll the condom slowly down his length. When it was snugly in place, Kurt reached between his own legs, wanton, and coated his fingers with excess lube before smearing it over Dave's shaft in one mouth-watering stroke.

"Ready?"

Dave tried to speak, "I won't - I'm too..."

"Shh. That's okay," Kurt said, pulling back, reclining on the bed and lifting his hips, "we have all night," He placed a lubed hand his own cock, "I want to take your first time-" pumping slowly, "-and your second –" rubbing the pooling precum with his thumb, "-and your third..."

Dave cut Kurt off with a growl and gripped at his thighs, yanking them upwards, lying lightly muscled calves over his shoulders. He ran his cock down the slippery crack of Kurt's ass, spread open by his position, and pushed tentatively at the stretched hole.

"Fuck, yes..." Kurt moaned his encouragement, hand deserting his own cock to stroke at Dave's chest. Dave felt him grinding his ass down on the blunt tip of his cock and thrust forward.

"Fuck!"

Dave stilled, not quite able to breathe as he found himself suddenly buried in the tight enveloping heat.

Kurt panted, and adjusted the position of his hips. Dave struggled to keep his eyes open, to keep his knees from folding under him, to do anything but thrust in deeper and when Kurt urged him on, moaned out his assent, he did just that, driving deep inside his willing body, feeling every move Kurt made, every breath and heartbeat and obscene sound that escaped those pink, wet lips and it threatened to consume him.

"Fuck, I'm...I'm gonna..."

"W-Wait," Kurt made a high-pitched, plaintive sound and reached out for Dave's hand, still attached to his thigh, and moved it over the jut of his hip, through the wiry silk of neatly trimmed pubic hair and onto his cock.

Dave stilled his hips and held his breath.

"Just..." Kurt started, breathless, and guided Dave's hand, pumping rapidly up and down his throbbing cock, "please...take me with you."

Dave pumped fiercely at Kurt's cock as he came in a bright, white explosion and he felt empty and full all at once; nothing was clear and yet everything made sense and, though he's still not sure that any sound made it past his lips he heard himself say, "Anywhere."  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Kurt dances with Mercedes to some godawful Lady Gaga song, Dave stands watching, sipping a Coke, ignoring the conversation Finn and Mike are having about body-popping. He may not like the song, but he can still admire the view, and so he does, openly. It feels fucking amazing to have that freedom.

"Can I speak to you for a second? In private."

A hand clutches his elbow, bringing him out of his stupor. He tenses, turning to see who it is and there's Blaine, hair gelled to shiny perfection beside him.

"What? Why?" Dave asks and shakes his hand off, but when Blaine's only response is turning and moving through their little crowd, Dave follows him anyway, across the room and out of the swing doors of the gym into the hall.

Blaine turns to face him. "I just have to say that I'm happy you've finally found your way out of the closet Dave, really I am," he stares up at Dave with his usual self-satisfied expression, "and I'm sure that Kurt's thrilled with your efforts here this evening, but your relationship with him can't be healthy."

"You think?" Dave's voice stays calm but his fingers flex at his sides, thumbing knuckles one by one.

"You two together, after everything you did, is," he pauses and takes a step closer to Dave, lowering his voice, "a little creepy. It can't be good for him."

"And you know what's good for him?" Dave inches closer. If Blaine wasn't such a short-ass, they'd be eye-to-eye.

"Yes," he snorts, "obviously more than you."

"Oh, okay, so, let me ask you this, Blaine. As the authority on Kurt's wellbeing, is cheating on him good for him?"

"What?" His dark eyes narrow, "That's none of your business. I...that was just a few text messages, it was a misunderst -"

"Oh really? Because unless you were texting Sebastian with your tongue, I call bullshit."

"What are you even..." Blaine was clearly getting flustered; he hooked a finger almost comically under his red bowtie.

"I saw you, with your slutty Dalton boy toy, at Scandals, and it turns out that was way before you and Kurt broke up."

"That was..."

"That was you being a cheating, lying, douche bag." Dave stares him in the eye, and Blaine finally drops his gaze, giving up the innocent act. "Maybe I did hurt Kurt, before, physically and mentally, but all I was to him then was some meathead bully. I was nothing. He didn't expect any better from me. He didn't trust me, or look-up to me, or love me. So climb down off your moral high horse and don't stick your eyebrows where they don't belong."

Blaine's eyebrows knot together at that, his hands curled in fists at his sides. He shakes his head and snorts again, "You have no right to judge me."

"Likewise, now get out of my fucking face."

And Dave's grateful that he does; he watches Blaine give the door back into the gym a violent shove and disappear through it. Dave lets out the breath he didn't realise he as holding in and leans back against the lockers, pressing palms against his eyes, trying to push down the anger pooling inside him before going back into the dance. He's jarred by the swing of the door again, and when he looks up, hoping to fuck it isn't Blaine Anderson back for more, the person he sees standing there is so much worse. It's Azimio.

His former friend stands still, as if stuck to the spot, gawking, and it's clear from his expression that he hadn't come out here looking for Dave. He swallows and looks around, unmoving in front of the doors.

"Just fucking say what you've gotta say, Az."

"I just...what the fuck, D? You're...like Hummel now?"

"I'm," Dave pauses, outside of his therapist's office, he's still only said the words a handful of times, "I'm gay, yeah."

"For real, man? That's why you left?" Az asks and there's a softness in his eyes, now, a legitimate sound to the question, and Dave thinks this might not be so bad; he might salvage something from the wreckage of their old friendship from this.

Dave shrugs, "Yeah," but as he begins to speak, the doors behind Azimio open and Strando spills out and runs into his back, making him stumble. Two bleached blond girls follow quickly behind.

"You comin' Az?" Strando asks, eyeing him and Dave with suspicion, "Or are you busy here?" His tone is laced with innuendo and one of the blonde's smacks her glossy lips together to make an exaggerated kissing sound. They all giggle like fucking children. They stare expectantly at Az whose eyes are still locked on Dave, but the softness is gone, like any hope Dave had of this being different.

"Yeah, well we don't need any more homos gaying up this place, so stay the fuck away, you hear?" Az turns and joins his friends and they giggle some more as they stagger down the corridor. He hears a yell of "Fucking faggot!" echo through the halls as they go, but he can't be sure which of his former teammates it came from.

Not that it matters. As Dave heads back towards the music and lights in the gym, he realises his anger's gone; all he feels for Az now is pity. He may not be gay, but he's in no less of a closet here than Dave was.

They lay on the bed, limbs tangled, sated and sweaty; Kurt's come cooling on both of their bellies.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm so dirty," Kurt said and nuzzled Dave's neck. "But I don't want to move from this spot. Ever."

"That's okay with me, I like you dirty."

And he knew, then, why people fight for this – the right to be with someone who makes you feel the way he feels when he's with Kurt like this. It's not just the sex – though, fucking wow - but all of it. He knew, in that moment, that he'd fight anyone, face anything, to have that feeling again, to have it all the time without shame or fear.

"Good," Kurt hummed into his chest, thigh wrapping around Dave's, pushing their crotches together. Kurt was hard again against his own tender cock. Dave pressed a kiss to his lips, still tasting the champagne there and, fuck, but Kurt was a horny drunk. "Ready for your second time?"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey," Dave smiles, approaching Kurt, whose chatting with Rachel and sipping punch through a bendy straw.

"There you are!" Kurt bellows over the music, "We were getting a little worried, Finn said you left with Blaine, and he just came back in and started doing his angry dance with Seblah-blah out there," he nods towards the dance floor, where Blaine was stomping his feet and flailing his arms to some Pink song in what, did indeed, look like an angry dance. "You didn't have to unleash the fury, did you?"

Dave laughs at the comical way he waggles his eyebrows as he mentions 'the fury'. "Nope, neither of them, we just had a nice little chat. Turns out he's still a massive douche bag."

"Well, whaddayaknow..." Kurt clicks his tongue, still cheerful.

"But then I ran into Azimio."

"Oh," Kurt's expression sobers, "How did that go?"

"Not as bad as it might have. But," he bows closer to Kurt's ear. "Wanna get out of here? I have an idea."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

Dave nods his head, close to Kurt's smiling face, and he's feeling light again. Carefree.

"Sounds good, just let me say my goodbyes, and we'll skedaddle"

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dirtier still, Dave pushed the screen aside and turned on the water before climbing into the pristine white of the shower stall, willing his unstable legs to support his weight. He ducked his head under the lukewarm water and looked back over his shoulder at Kurt, "Care to join me?"

Kurt leaned against the tiled wall, dishevelled and smiling. "I thought you liked me dirty."

"I like you any way, but the closer, the better."

Kurt slips in close behind him, arms wrapping around his chest, catching the spray of the water, "Bet you've never done this after practice."

"Nope."

"Have you wanted to?"

"Mmm, with you, yeah...I thought about it. I kinda joined the Titans just to get a peak at your junk, Hummel."

"What?"

Dave tensed, but there was a smile in Kurt's voice and his hands stayed locked around his torso. "I...when you were kicker, after that whole Beyonce thing, I..."

"You liked me back then?"

"Is that," Dave swallowed hard, scared to turn around and see what might lie in Kurt's eyes, "creepy?"

"Hmm," Kurt hummed against his neck, "No creepier that why I joined."

"Why?"

"You know why..." Kurt sounded embarrassed, and Dave did know, so he let it go.

"Stupid schoolboy crushes, huh?" He turned to face Kurt, pulling him into a slippery kiss.

Kurt pulled away when the insult sunk in. "Hey!"

"Hey yourself."

They kissed under the spray some more, chests pressed tight, before Kurt applied a liberal amount of honey scented shower gel to Dave's chest, working it down his body.

"How about at Carmel? Any stupid crushes there?"

"Are you insane? No one comes close, Kurt."

"Mmm, good. Has anyone..." Kurt trailed off as he rubbed at a stiff nipple.

"What?" Dave asked, pushing his lips against Kurt's wet forehead.

"Do people at school ask you about girlfriends and stuff?"

"Yeah, they know I'm...seeing someone."

Kurt laughed, a little sour, "How vague."

"Come on, baby steps, y'know? I haven't outright said I'm dating a girl".

"Don't they ask question - like, guy talk – specifics?" Kurt's hand massaged across Dave's belly.

"Yeah, but I'm kinda quiet at school. Now, though, if they say, 'Hey Karofsky, you get some this weekend?' I can say honestly yeah, I did, and it was fucking hot."

"So, they've ask about me?"

"Yeah, once or twice, but," Dave's breath caught as Kurt lathered his pubic hair, "Stupid stuff like, 'Your girlfriend got ghetto booty, Karofsky?'"

Kurt giggled, "I hope you said no."

"Of course," Dave goes on, "Though I might've told them that you used to be a cheerleader."

"That's..."

Dave cuts him off, the hand tangled in his hair pulling him closer, "That's true. I never lie about you, not...entirely."

Kurt kissed him, "No, you just let them think you have a perky ex-cheerleader girlfriend."

"Hummel, you are a perky ex-cheerleader. And, you can be pretty girly, so..." Dave kissed him back, sliding his tongue slowly over abused lips.

Kurt ran a slippery hand over Dave's freshly-resurrected cock, then down, applying pressure to his sensitive balls, breaking the kiss, "Fuck you Karofsky, let me show you how un-girly I can be."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You hurt my boy, I hurt your boys, understand?"

"Understood."

Mercedes looks him up and down, sizing him up, like she's deciding whether or not a pre-emptive kick in the balls might be a better idea. Instead of inflicting bodily harm though, she tells him, stony-faced, "He loves you, you know."

"I know. I love him too."

"Oh," is all she says and Dave honestly doesn't know who's more surprised: Mercedes at Dave's simple proclamation or Dave that, after what he's just done, his feelings for Kurt aren't patently obviously to everyone. They stare bemused at each other for a beat, then Mercedes smiles. "Even I can't argue with that."

Kurt appears at his side, "Ready?"

"Let's go."

They make it to the car unscathed, and Kurt beams at him as they pull out of the parking lot.

"I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, I'm kind of a little proud of myself too, for not passing out." Dave casts a glance towards Kurt as he drives, and see's him smiling back at him, heartfelt.

"You did it," Kurt says excitedly and presses his palm against Dave's thigh, "You made a difference in there tonight, you changed people's perceptions of what it is to be gay."

"I think I changed people's perception of me, but..."

"You did more than that, stop pretending to be modest."

"I'm not, but..."

"Stop arguing. You know I'm always right." Kurt slaps playfully at his knee. He seems giddy, so much so that Dave can't help but wonder if that punch he was drinking had been spiked.

"Shut up, Hummel."

"And you're going the wrong way, I knew I shouldn't let you drive..."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Well, I can't argue with that," He smiles suggestively and pats Dave's thigh as he drives. And yeah, Dave thinks that punch was definitely spiked.

When he begins to pull into the parking lot at Carmel, Kurt's giddy smile fades.

"I thought we were going back to the hotel," He looks worriedly across at Dave as the car slows to a stop.

Dave looks out through the windshield at the black outline of the school building. The sun's all but set and the sky's painted a strange orange-red, like it could be on fire. It looks almost frightening, but kind of beautiful just the same, and that seems fitting for tonight. He looks over at Kurt, placing a warm hand on his knee, and says in one breath, "I want us to go in there, to my senior prom, and I want to dance with you, Kurt. I want everyone to know. Tonight. And I promise not to almost pass out this time. Will you come in there with me?"

Kurt smiles at him, warm and sincere and full of understanding. "Of course I will," He rests his hand on top of Dave's, squeezing it, "I can't have you dancing with anyone else in there, can I?"

They rush into the building, music filling the halls and banners and balloons plastered across the walls, the decorations feel much more elaborate than McKinley's, more cheerful. It feels nothing like it had back there. Dave can't stop smiling as they head in the direction of the music, stealing heavy glances at each other along the way. As they arrive at the gym's entrance, there's a small, dark haired girl sitting behind a desk.

"Tickets?" She queries, not lifting her eyes from her cellphone.

"We, uh, don't have any, but the dance is almost over anyway, right? Let us in." Dave all but pleads, courage mustered, he doesn't want to turn away now.

"No ticket, no prom. Sorry."

Kurt tries to turn on his charm and perches on the edge of the table, "That's a fabulous dress you're wearing – such a shame to waste it out here – why don't you come in and catch the last dance, huh?"

"Can't," She says and turns, hoisting a plaster-cast foot onto the table. "And I'm in enough trouble as it is anyway." She lets her foot drop back to the floor with a clunk and turns back to her cellphone.

Kurt looks at Dave, pouting.

Dave shrugs helplessly. "We tried, right?"

"We did, and –" Kurt rubs a gentle hand on Dave's arm but, before he can finish what he'd started to say, his head turns, gaze following the guy who just came through the doors of the gym.

"Jesse!" He shouts, and dashes wide eyed toward the shorter guy, who's dressed in a tailored navy suit with a white shirt and no tie. Dave's seen him before but can't name where, and he starts to feel jealousy bubble in his gut.

"Yes?" Jesse says, looking sceptically at Kurt.

"It's Kurt Hummel, from New Directions. Rachel's friend." Kurt says, sounding strangely nervous.

"I know who you are. What on earth brings you here? Vocal Adrenalin isn't performing tonight, at this school they can afford to hire an actual DJ."

Ignored the snide remark, "No, it's nothing to do with glee club...can you get us in? We don't have tickets, and -"

"Why, what's going on?" He eyes Kurt and Dave suspiciously.

"This is my school," Dave steps forward, closer to Kurt, "This is my date, and we just wanna dance at prom, okay?"

"Oh, it's you," Jesse says, smile in his voice if not on his face. "The mysterious football player. So it is true."

Dave and Kurt share a quick look, Kurt asks first, "What's true?"

Jesse shrugs and looks casually at Kurt, "That he's gay. I wasn't so sure, but my guys thought...oh, well. Can't always tell, huh?" He turns away from them and towards the girl at the desk, "Lucy, let the jock and his boyfriend into the dance, okay?"

"But..." she starts, before Jesse cuts her off.

"They won't cause any trouble, and, if you do let them in, I'll let you back onto the team."

"Really?" Her eyes light up, and within seconds, she's smudging each of their hands with red, heart-shaped ink-stamps and they're going to prom, for the second time tonight.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gym isn't as busy as he'd thought it would be; most of the kids must've decided to leave before now, hopped into their limos to hit Breadstix or the Best Western or someone's house. Dave's still reeling from what Jesse said.

"How did he know that? D'you think Berry told him?"

"I doubt it," Kurt replies, looking around, apprehensive. "Who knows, and what difference does it make now anyway? Everyone's gonna find out...if you still want them to?"

"Sure I do, it's just..." He trails off, not knowing quite why the idea of anyone suspecting he's gay should still bother him. There's barely a butterfly left in his stomach. "Old habits, I guess?"

"Silly," Kurt says, shaking his head.

"I know," he agrees. It's stupid. This is precisely why he's here; to show the world he's gay for Kurt Hummel. Well, at least his little part of the world. And so far, every step he's taken away from that closet has made that world a lighter, brighter place to live. Dave slides his hand around Kurt's and feels his shoulders loosen up as he grips it firmly. "Want a drink?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

The punch here is definitely spiked, so he lets Kurt drink and he abstains, designating himself the driver. They stand by the drinks table, smiling at one another, Kurt shimmying his shoulders to the music.

"Hey Karofsky," Dave hears his name being yelled from behind, quickly followed by a punch to his upper arm, "Thought you had a date at your old school tonight?"

Dave looks back at Foley, the quarterback; Carmel's answer to Finn Hudson – singing and dancing aside – and answers evenly, nerve staying strongly in place, "I did, but we left."

"To come to this crapfest? Man, how lame was McKinley's prom?" He laughs and, then he's eying Kurt with suspicion.

Kurt throws him a small, nervous smile and takes a sip from the plastic punch cup.

"No way, dude, is this your girlfriend?" Foley's eye flit back and forth between them, his expression something Dave can't quite read.

Dave bristles, and pulls himself closer to Kurt. "Are you blind as well as dumb, Foley? He's my boyfriend."

"Oh. I, uh," Foley stumbles over his words then pauses, clears his throat and looks blithely at Kurt, "So, uh, Dave said you used to be a cheerleader?"

Kurt's eyes light up and he nods, "I was on the football team for a while too, but it wasn't really my thing."

Dave stands there dumbfounded, listening to the conversation between his newly-revealed boyfriend and his team-mate, and he feels fine; he feels fucking happy.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Kurt leads him by the hand onto the dance floor, Dave can hear whispering; murmurs of "ohmygod," and "he totally is," but this time, his heart pounding in his chest isn't due to fear, it's something different entirely. Something he never dared imagined back in his days at McKinley. As they face each other on the floor, under shimmering yellow lights, people are staring, and he doesn't have it in him anymore to care. No one shouts, no-one's laughing at them or throwing things or threatening them. The only weight he feels on his shoulders is from Kurt's arms, draping loosely around his neck.

They sway in time to the last to the few bars of 'Flightless Bird, American Mouth', and Kurt leans in close and sighs into his ear, "This is nice, I feel just like Bella Swan."

Dave laughs softly, but says nothing, just tightens his grip on Kurt's waist and enjoys the moment. He can see, from the corners of his eyes, the rubberneckers turning away; going back to their own dancing or drinking or personal dramas.

The songs ends and Kurt asks, "Had enough?"

"No," Dave shakes his head and smiles, lips so close to Kurt that he just wants to kiss him in thanks for this, all of it, but he doesn't want to push his luck. "This is nice. One more."

They continue to sway as the next song starts and the yellow lights turn twinkly and white. He recognises the song, but can't quite place it right away.

#Good times for a change

See, the luck I've had

Can make a good man turn bad#

"Did you plan this?" Kurt says, pulling back a little, smiling wide, eyes glittering in the light.

#So please, please, please

Let me, let me, let me

Let me get what I want

This time#

"Plan what?" He asks, not sure what he's being accused of.

"This song, it's 'Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want' – it's a Smiths cover."

#Haven't had a dream in a long time

See, the life I've had

Can make a good man bad#

"Seriously?"

"Yep, bit of a coincidence..." Kurt smirks and pressed back into Dave's arms.

"Sadly, I didn't plan it. Not any of it."

"Really?"

"I wish I had. Would've been pretty smooth, right?" They smile at each other, starry eyed in the twinkling light, close, but not close enough. "Besides, I wouldn't have chosen this song."

#So for once in my life

Let me get what I want

Lord knows it would be the first time#

"Why not?" Kurt sighs, and presses his cheek lightly against Dave's, "I like this song."

"Me too, but," Dave pulls him closer, maybe too close, but he's not worried anymore. He whispers, "The lyrics are all wrong - I already got what I wanted."

THE END


End file.
